Price's Recollection
by roflmywaffles
Summary: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 has ended, Price remembers what started it all, that one ship. Summarizes the Modern Warfare story so far through Price's eyes.  Doesn't include missions excluding Price
1. Prologue

This is my first story so don't be surprised if it isn't all that great, also, I would appreciate any advice for my story from senior fan fiction writers. Thank you.

Prologue: The Beginning

To say the least, the man sitting on the bench, strapped into the plane looked worn. He looked around 35, maybe 37, but age hadn't duller his sensed. He looked down at his callused, beaten hands and remembered the horrors of the past five years, and when things seemed like he would recover, everything came down, hard. His dark brown eyes looked around the cabin warily, his brown hat drooping down, covering his face along with his short, brown hair.

The other man, a man is his late 20s, had stubble for a beard, ice blue eyes that had a hard look that showed that he had seen much in his life, too much, he had brown hair, average height, and had strong muscles that could move stealthily along, had bandages covering a recent wound.

The scenery flew by out the window. The rotors were screaming, the very rotors of the very helicopter, of this machine, of which had saved these two lives this day. But these lives had accomplished something that would cause them to go down into history the way nobody wanted to, but they might just be able enough proof to justify their actions, but unlikely. They'll be lucky merely to survive for 10 more days, or even 5.

Once they started to touch down in an overhang, nearly invisible from the sky, his companion stirred.

"Are we here yet Nicolai?" He yelled over the screaming rotors.

"Da." said Nicolai, his heavy Russian accent along with his 5'oclock shadow, rough face, and brown hair appearing from the cockpit, "We are here Soap."

"So, Captain Price," Nicolai said, "How did it go?"

"Fine," Price said, "We killed Sheppard, you got us out, all in all, I said we did pretty damn good considering I woke up this morning expecting to die on our little suicide mission."

"But it didn't turn out that suicidal after all" Soap said, grimacing in pain at his wound, "Well, at least not yet."

"Nicolai," Price said, "Can you bring us down now? We all need sleep badly."

"Very well, my friends, I shall bring you down at once."

"Thank you very much Nicolai, for everything."

Once Price settled down to sleep in their little dark, gloomy cave, he knew exactly he would dream about, he would dream about the bridge, five years ago, what started the hell he now lived in, what caused Gaz and the others to die, what caused all this pain, death, and suffering, no it went further than that, it went all the way back to the beginning, to the ship, to the ship, to the ship…


	2. Preparation

A/N: I'm am sorry for never updating this story, I lost intrest in it due to things happening in my life and never picked it up again. I was planning to make this more in-depth and include what happened to him at the Gulag (Which I believe is all speculation unless there is a novel detailing what happened to him there, if there is please tell me.), however, I just want to get through this story so I can work on other things as I would hate to leave a project incomplete. So forgive me if some parts feel rushed. Also, my memory is rusty since it has been a year or two since I have played the capaign for COD4, so sorry if I miss some of the details.

* * *

The storm was particuarly angry this night. The rain lashed against the spinning rotors, the wind howeled by his head, and the heads of his squad as they made their way across the Bering Strait at 01:23 towards a commercial ship, packing assorted military supplies for assorted people with differeing goals and motives, but they could care less about the ship or whom was on the ship, for they had only a few intrests on that perticular liner, what weapons resided on it, and to whom it was being transported to. That was their mission, and the crew was of no concern, or as Price had put it to his squad, expendable.

He knew his smoking didn't help him at all, if anything it gave him a disadvantage, a disadvantage his enemies would need to have any chance at stopping him. But he didn't care. In his line of "work", sanity was a hard thing to retain, after all, with the blood of men he didn't know on his hands, the blood of one who he knew had family and freinds, sanity was something to cherish, something to try and retain at all costs. And for him, smoking helped him retain it, if not his life. But that was this was at the back of his mind right now, for his mind was at the task at hand, securing the ship, or destroying it, whichever was required for the mission to be considered a sucess.

The sound of the pilot coming through his headset pushed him out of his reverie.

"Target in sight, bringing it in." said the pilot as he brough the helicopter around to the front of the ship, the storm, meanwhile masking their approach with the howling winds, heavy rain, and gigantic waves throwing themselves at the hull of the ship, which shrugged it off with a little effort.

"Copy that." Price replied nonchalantly, as if bringing a helicopter dropping off an elite squadron of S.A.S. troops on an unaware freighter full of unsuspecting crew member, who would be left at the mercy of said squad, were the most natural thing in the world.

As he uncaringly threw his spent cigarette into the ocean below, he looked at the ship and thought _"There should be only light resistance, mostly equipped with standard-issue automatic weaponry that they weild with a low amount of skill, should be easy enough."_

He looked and saw the new recruit, "Soap" dawn his hazard mask and turn the safety of his MP5 silenced sub-machinegun off and pull back the slider. His actions were soon replicated by the rest of the squad and by Price himself.

As soon as the ropes were dropped, the squad grabbed them, put their thighs around it, and allowed themsleves to drop out of the helicopter, still attached to the rope of course. Once he feet hit the ground, he lifted his weapon spotted the crew directing the ship and said over the comm-link "Weapons free" and squezed the trigger.

* * *

Sorry that I'm leaving you hanging when the action is about to start, as I said in the beginning, my memory is a little fuzzy on the campaign so I'll continue this once I get a chance to play it.

THANKS FOR READING!


End file.
